


Was It Worth It?

by Zakani_Donovan



Series: Well, That Was A Thing (Good Omens One-Shots) [26]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Canon Compliant, Caring Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Fluff, Gay, Hurt Crowley (Good Omens), Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Mutual Pining, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Soft Crowley (Good Omens), The Blitz scene aftermath, good omens - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-10
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:00:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27994161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zakani_Donovan/pseuds/Zakani_Donovan
Summary: Aziraphale invites Crowley into the bookshop after his 1941 rescue. He may not be able to say 'thank you', but he can help him.
Relationships: Aziraphale & Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Well, That Was A Thing (Good Omens One-Shots) [26]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1800655
Comments: 4
Kudos: 85





	Was It Worth It?

**Author's Note:**

> Context: It dawned on me that I had not written anything that takes place immediately after the Blitz scene from the show after seeing a specific piece of fan art from "tatumitori" on Twitter and my mind started running. 
> 
> (Also, just go along with the logic presented. I just needed some excuse for them to cuddle.)

Though Crowley wouldn't admit it, he was in a considerable amount of pain because of his little walk down the aisle. But really, what else was he supposed to do? The angel, **his** angel, needed him. Even if they **had** parted ways on not-so-great terms last century, they were still friends, and Crowley wasn't about to let him get killed by a bunch of stupid nazis. So what if he looked like a cartoon, hopping around all over the place? He needed to make sure Aziraphale was safe! And now he **was** , sitting in the passenger's side of the Bentley.

The ride to the bookshop had been incredibly silent and Crowley didn't know if that was a good thing or not. He wondered if Aziraphale was still upset with him. Maybe he **had** overreacted that day at St. James. Maybe they would've spoken before now, had that argument not happened. Maybe-

"Crowley?"

The demon snapped back to reality and looked at Aziraphale, who was staring at him. It seems they had been parked in front of the shop for longer than he thought, because the angel looked concerned.

"Are you alright?" He asked softly.

Crowley shook his head before nodding. "Yeah, fine. Just... dazed from having to divert that bomb." He said unconvincingly, though the blond didn't seem to notice or care to mention it.

"I imagine that was quite a strong miracle..."

"Yup..." Said the demon, popping the 'p' very loudly. 

There was a pause just as Aziraphale reached for the door of the Bentley. He turned towards him again, his eyes practically pleading with him. "Would you like to come in? I've got some wine I'm sure you'd love."

"...Sure. It's been a while."

"It'll be nice to catch up." Replied the angel with a smile before exiting the vehicle.

"Hmm." Hummed Crowley with a nod and he followed the him out the car. But not before he hissed out in pain as soon as he put more pressure on his first foot. He jumped a bit, just like in the church, but leaned up against the car when he realized both feet hurt just as bad.

"Oh, dear. I thought you had miracle'd away the pain."

"Can't." Grunted Crowley, looking down at his shoes.

"Why not?"

"Don't know. Been trying to this whole time. It eased up a bit after the church crumbled, but it came back as I was walking towards the car."

"Do you need any help?"

"Nah, I can manage. Just give me a minute." He said before taking a deep breath and putting pressure on his feet again. This time, he balanced himself the sides of his feet, rather than the soles. He knew he looked ridiculous, but no one else was around, and it worked a bit. So, he waddled his way over to the bookshop's entrance, hopped up the steps and walked in once the angel unlocked the door. He insisted he was fine, all the way to the back room, just as he threw himself onto the couch.

Aziraphale put the books on the loveseat before disappearing, most likely to go get the wine he had tempted Crowley into accepting. So, the demon was surprised to see him come back with a small tub of water.

"Angel, what-"

"Shoes and socks off, now." He ordered as he placed the tub on the floor just in front of the couch.

The redhead raised a brow. "Who are you, my mother?"

"Crowley, I'm serious! The fact that you haven't been able to get rid of the pain on your own is very concerning!" Exclaimed Aziraphale.

The demon scoffed. "What are you going to do, Aziraphale? Bless me?" He asked, amused.

"Well, not exactly. I think that may worsen your condition-"

"Ha! 'Condition' I'm not dying Aziraphale, my feet are just burned!"

"Whatever you wish to call it, dear boy. They need to be tended to quickly to ensure they don't get worse. **Please** , let me help you." He was begging. Crowley could never resist giving Aziraphale whatever he wanted.

So, he finally agreed. "...Fine. Go on, then. But at least get me that drink you promised."

Not willing to keep putting this off, Aziraphale simply snapped the wine and glasses from upstairs. He set the bottle on the coffee-table after pouring both drinks. Crowley reached for his glass, but Aziraphale pulled it back. The angel motioned towards the demon's feet. Crowley rolled his eyes before removing his shoes and socks and sticking his blistered soles into the small tub of water. He hissed at the first contact, but visibly relaxed within a few seconds.

Aziraphale nodded with a smile and handed over the wineglass. As Crowley was about to comment on the flavor, the angel rolled up his sleeves, got down on his knees and started examining Crowley's feet.

He made sure not to touch the soles, gently gripping the ankle. He winced once he got a better look at them. "How you could still put pressure on these is beyond me, dear boy. Your skin is so raw! You poor thing..."

"Don't need your pity, angel. Just do whatever you're planning on doing."

Though he may sound like he'd rather be anywhere but here, Crowley's stomach was doing backflips. He couldn't remember the last time he and Aziraphale had this much physical contact with each other. They were always brief brushes that lasted half a second because they'd remember that they **shouldn't**. He'd sometimes 'accidentally" bump into the angel to give him a few seconds before he realized what had just happened. So having Aziraphale tend to him, it was something exciting and terrifying at the same time.

Aziraphale had a soft washcloth he was using to damp his feet. Crowley suppressed as many winces as he could just so he would keep doing it. The angel never once looked up at him while doing so, making Crowley feel a bit awkward. So he decided to break the silence.

"Bit blasphemous, don't you think?"

With that, the principality finally met his eyes again. Or rather, his sunglasses. "Sorry, what?"

"You, an angel, washing a demon's feet?" Crowley regretted it as soon as it left his mouth, but to his relief, Aziraphale rolled his eyes in an attempt to keep himself from laughing. He gave him a playful glare and continued tending to his feet.

Suddenly, Crowley felt a specific type of tingling and flinched because of it. "What was that?" He asked as he pulled away.

"Hold still. I'm trying to extract the holiness from the consecrated ground." Explained the blond.

Crowley tilted his head. "You can do that?"

Aziraphale made a face. "Emphasis on 'trying', because I have no idea what I'm doing. I'm just hoping it'll work. I'm afraid I'd injure you further if I tried healing you like I would a human..."

Crowley softened at that. The angel was trying his best to not hurt him and here he was, unable to help because his miracles wouldn't work. Aziraphale did all he could, and after a while, he was beginning to look drained. A feat in itself, since Crowley had always known him to be optimistic and a bit energetic. That specific tingling had died down a bit, as did the burning sensation. Though it still hurt, he assumed Aziraphale's little experiment had worked, to a degree.

Upon hearing this, the angel quickly began to dry Crowley's feet with another towel. "We should get you bandaged up. Be back in a jiffy."

True to his word, he came back quickly with an old first-aid kit. Though, his face was less than ideal once he opened it. "Oh, **bother**."

"What's wrong?"

"I seem to have lost track of everyone I've patched up with this kit. I need more supplies."

"Can't just miracle them up?"

The angel looked conflicted. "I'm afraid I'd be taking them away from someone in a worse condition than you. There's still a war going on, after all."

That was true. It had always been easier for them to miracle something into their hand when they were taking it from someone else, rather than willing it into existence on their own. And, much like Crowley, Aziraphale didn't have enough energy for the latter right now. 

Crowley hummed, understanding. "What've you got left in there?"

"I have enough ointment and tape, but not enough bandages for both feet." Said the blond.

"Let me see."

The angel placed the kit on the couch for him to see what they had to work with. Aziraphale could practically see the cogs moving within Crowley's mind.

Eventually, he spoke again. "Alright, I've got an idea. Just go with it."

The principality nodded and watched as the next scene unfolded. Crowley started rolling his shoulders, cracking his neck and exhaling slowly. Then, he noticed how Crowley's features were turning more reptilian. He hadn't seen this in-between form since Eden. After a few moments, the demon had fully shifted into his snake form, albeit, much smaller than his Original Tempter shape. He then gestured to his injured tail.

"You've got enough bandagesss now, don't you?" He asked telepathically. Or at least, the angel **assumed** it was through telepathy, since the serpent's mouth never moved but he'd heard him as clear as day.

Aziraphale was impressed. "You clever, clever demon. I had no idea you could control your size like this!"

"Haven't had to do it in a long time. Plusss, I'll heal fassster thisss way." Said Crowley.

The blond blinked at him. "Really?"

"Well, if the temperature isss agreeable."

"And by that you mean...?"

"I need to be warm to heal myssself asss quick asss posssible."

Aziraphale made a face. "Enlighten me, please. I'm afraid I don't **quite** follow."

"Sssnakes are ectothermic, meaning: we will heal fassster in warm temperaturesss becaussse we can't regulate our bodiesss like humansss can. Plusss, being a demon, I'm not a normal sssnake. If I'm warm enough, I think I could be out of your hair by morning." Explained Crowley.

"Completely healed? By morning?" The angel looked doubtful.

Crowley did what looked like the snake equivalent of a shrug. "Well, good enough to walk out in much lesss pain than right now."

"In that case, let's get you patched up and tucked in."

The demon chuckled. "I'm not a child going down for a nap, angel."

"And you expect me to believe you won't fall asleep once I'm done with you? You, who indulges in sloth more than any other deadly sin?" Asked the blond, knowingly.

Even in his serpent form, he found ways to look very smug. "What can I sssay? It'sss a talent."

"It certainly is. Now, let's fix this, shall we?"

Once the snake nodded, Aziraphale went to work. As gentle as a feather, the angel's fingers coated Crowley's injuries in the ointment, let it rest for a moment, then wrapped up his tail in the remaining bandages and secured them in place with a small piece of tape. With the injury tended to, Aziraphale pulled the blanket from the couch and draped it over Crowley.

"Sleep well, dear boy." He whispered as he moved away from the couch and settled into the loveseat with the books Crowley had saved.

~~~~~

He couldn't quite get over the fact that he had forgotten all about the books. That was very unlike him. Even more surprising was that Crowley would care enough about prophecy books that had nothing to do with him. Or perhaps they **did** and he didn't know it? With that idea, he started going through them, in search for any hints that would point to the demon.

Truth was, he wouldn't find anything. Crowley never cared for books. Stories? Without a doubt, he enjoyed those very much. But physical books? They weren't really his thing. They were **Aziraphale's** thing, and he knew that better than anyone. **This** was why he saved them. Some part of Aziraphale **knew** this was the case, but another was too afraid to believe it. So, for the time being, he'd try to tell himself the demon only saved the books to not hear his complaints about losing them. With that, he began to read them.

He lost himself while doing this, but only looked up from the pages when some rustling from underneath the blanket let him know that Crowley was no longer asleep. 

"Are you alright?" Asked the angel. The question seemed to spook Crowley, since the snake-shaped lump jumped, then immediately groaned.

Aziraphale put the books away in the same bag and made his way over to the couch again. He hooked the edge of the blanket with his fingers and gently pulled it up. Crowley poked his head out and flicked his tongue.

"Did I frighten you?"

"Didn't think you were ssstill there." Replied the demon.

"How has the healing been going?" Asked Aziraphale, not wanting to unwrap him from the blanket.

He groaned. "Working, but not asss quick asss I'd hoped."

"What seems to be the problem?"

"Need more warmth." Said Crowley.

Aziraphale hummed as he gave it some thought for a moment. "I have a bed I don't use upstairs. The quilt is much thicker than this old thing. Do you think that would suit you better?"

Crowley nodded. "Worth a shot." The snake went to move, but he flinched and he hissed when his tail dragged on the couch. To the point where the angel thought he was going to fall off the couch. Instinctively, Aziraphale reached out towards Crowley and picked him up. The first few moments were awkward because Aziraphale didn't say a thing, and Crowley seemed to melt into his hands.

"Um, sorry. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, jussst..."

"What is it?" He was fairly concerned the poor thing was about to faint because he wasn't focusing on him.

"You're way warmer than I expected..." He explained softly.

"...Would it help? Staying near you so you could use my body heat?"

Crowley nodded, not daring to make eye- contact with Aziraphale. With that, the angel understood the demon was embarrassed that he'd have to cuddle up to an angel in order heal as rapidly as he had hoped.

[Aziraphale then guided Crowley's head to drape over his shoulder, clutching the bag of books once more.](https://twitter.com/tatumitori/status/1333655097541201920?s=21) He placed them on the desk before returning to the couch. He grabbed his old copy of 'Much Ado About Nothing', which had been collecting dust on the coffee-table. Before flipping it open, he made sure Crowley was properly wrapped around his neck and threw the blanket on top of his shoulders. He tucked it in as much as he could, as gently as he could, in hopes that his plan would work.

"How is that, dear boy? Better?"

Crowley said nothing, nodding into the angel's Adam's apple and squeezing him ever-so-slightly. Most likely to ensure he didn't fall off and not a hug. Whether he was too drained from the healing process, or just tired in general, Aziraphale wasn't sure. What he **did** know, was that he would gladly stay like this to provide Crowley with whatever heat he needed. And so he did.

~~~~~

Morning came and Crowley stirred awake once the kettle whistled. When the snake finally regained himself, he was a bit confused. He had, essentially, used Aziraphale for a bed last night, practically melted into him. And yet, he woke up alone with no memory of the angel putting him down. Before being able to process anything else, Aziraphale returned, tray in-hand with two cups of tea and a plateful of biscuits.

"Good morning. How are you feeling?" He asked, setting down the tray.

Part of him felt dizzy but there was one thing that was very obvious. "No idea, but I'm not in a lot of pain, ssso that'sss sssomething..."

"Oh! That's good!" Exclaimed the angel with a smile.

Crowley hummed softly before shifting back into his human form. He tried to stand, but his knees buckled and he fell towards the couch. Once again, Aziraphale was there to catch him.

"You'll have to pace yourself better, dear boy. Have some tea while your body feels like itself again."

Crowley tried to repress the blush he was sure was painting his face before accepting the drink. After a few moments, he took a look at his feet.

The skin was still damaged, but it no longer looked raw, so that was an improvement. The fact that he was able to stand and it wasn't as unbearable as it had been last night, proved that Crowley's little theory had been correct. His own body healed itself as best as possible, considering the circumstances. And now that he was well enough to walk, he could get out of Aziraphale's hair and stop putting him in more danger than usual.

So he put on his socks and shoes again, ate some biscuits, had some more tea, made some light conversation, and said his goodbyes.

Just as he was about to walk out, Aziraphale spoke up again. "You can't be sure they'll heal **completely**... Was it worth it?"

Crowley paused at the door. "You **always** are, angel. Don't you know that by now?" Said the demon in a low voice before slipping out of the building.

It may have been a whisper, but Aziraphale heard it perfectly. His chest then swelled with love. Perhaps he **hadn't** misinterpreted Crowley saving his books after all...


End file.
